


The Sea By Starlight

by Harp_of_Gold



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Breathplay, Diving, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, M/M, Ocean Sex, Sailing, Slice of Life, The Falas, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harp_of_Gold/pseuds/Harp_of_Gold
Summary: Ossë comes and goes like the storms, but he's always there when Círdan needs him most. And sometimes he lets Círdan be there for him.
Relationships: Círdan/Ossë
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26
Collections: Innumerable Stars 2020





	The Sea By Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grundy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/gifts).



Swimming down to the bottom was getting easier, Círdan thought. The waters were cool and sparkled with starlight. It penetrated just far enough that he could make out the shadowed oyster beds. He hurried to break oysters off the bottom and stuff them into his bag before his breath ran out. His lungs were burning, but he was used to that. Everything went quiet and seemed to slow when he was in the water, and he was never quite ready to leave. He was careful, though. He'd ignored his body's protests too long and blacked out once, and his diving partner had to pull him from the sea before he drowned. He dove too often alone now. The friends he’d counted on had finished their journey to the fabled Blessed Realms where light hung in the air, or had joined Elwë in his forest home, once they'd finally found their stray king. He didn't resent them seeking happiness elsewhere, but he missed them.

Círdan surfaced and noticed the wind was picking up. A storm was blowing in from the west. He swam for shore. It wouldn't do to be caught in the water when the storm hit, and he’d already gone down several times. It was enough. He dried off and wrapped himself in a soft wool robe. The little driftwood fire he'd lit earlier still burned, and he warmed himself by it. The water bled away his body heat, and he never realized how cold he was until he was out. Lightning flashed out at sea, and he calculated its approach. There wouldn't be time to row back to the village. He made instead for a rocky overhang further down the beach, and he settled in, cracking open oysters and slurping them from their shells, closing his eyes in satisfaction at the sweet, briny flavor.

The last bit of starlight winked out as the clouds blew in, and each streak of lightning was blinding. Rain pounded the waves, and wind lashed the rocks, howling, but Círdan stayed dry in his shelter, except for a stray patter of raindrops when the wind caught just right. He stepped closer, watching the storm in the fullness of its fury, a thrill running down his spine. He reveled in its raw wildness, in the awe that swallowed him in the face of its immensity and power. His face must look like Elwë's when he'd first described Aman long ago. Círdan didn't need to cross the sea to find something worth his adoration; he had it right here. And even Elwë had discovered a reason to stay in the end, after all.

If Círdan listened very closely, he could hear laughter over the roaring waves. He dropped his head back against the stone and grinned. Ossë had returned. 

He found him lounging in the shallows the next star cycle, when Menelmacar, the Sky-warrior, was high overhead. “Good to see you didn't convince us to stay only to abandon us here.” His tone was warm despite his words.

Ossë snickered. “Good to see you haven't forgotten everything I taught you since I've been gone.” He nodded toward the little boat drawn up on the beach and flashed Círdan a smile full of sharp teeth. “I saw you watching my storm. Enjoy it, did you?”

“Are my people happy? Are they in Aman now?”

“Yes.” Ossë softened and turned more fully to him. Starlight glinted on his scaly tail, and Círdan wondered what colors a fire's glow would reveal on him this time. “Though they tarried a while on the island before they crossed to the shore. I told them there’d be no going back, that everything would change, but it wasn't enough for them. They wanted their friends; they wanted the light. None of them seemed to regret it.”

“Mm. It must be beautiful, all that light.”

“You can't see the stars.” Ossë's voice had gone cold and clipped. 

“I don't think I'd want to live without them overhead,” Círdan mused. “All the same, I’d like to see it. Just once.”

“There's no going back,” Ossë repeated, though he relaxed again a little. “Do you regret it now?”

“Staying? Oh no. You didn't persuade me so much as put words to what I’d felt ever since I saw the sea. This place…there’s so much of it. So much beauty right under our noses, so much to see and explore, so much grandeur…I don't want to leave it. I could spend ages here and not see enough. There are some angry they were left behind, but they’re all Elwë's folk. Not the ones you spoke to. I…seem to have a little folk of my own, lately. The village. People who love the sea too much to leave it for Elwë and his deep woods. Do you think that's strange? I never meant to be any sort of leader.”

Ossë scoffed. “How should I know what's strange for elves?”

An awkward silence fell. “I brought gull eggs,” Círdan said at last. “For you, if you deigned to show yourself.”

Ossë perked up. “Gull eggs are my favorite.”

“I know.” He let Ossë snatch one from the basket he carried, watched him crack it and suck out the contents. He edged back when the Maia reached for more. “Mind your manners. I thought I'd cook these for us.”

“Why would you go and ruin what's already perfect?” Ossë pouted and whined, and Círdan had to struggle not to laugh. The fun might be over if he thought he was being mocked.

“I can make them even better, though. It's called an omelet.”

Ossë watched with interest as he built a fire _(Blues and greens in stripes down his tail.)_ and prepared some wild garlic and mushrooms to add. “You're a good leader,” he said suddenly. “That's why. You’re kind, and you listen, and you have good ideas. It isn't strange.”

Círdan smiled softly. “Thanks.” Ossë leaned over, propping himself on the sand while they ate. Círdan's eyes kept drifting over his body. He'd missed him, his biting commentary and his unexpected kindnesses alike. “I watched for your coming, you know.”

“It takes as long as it takes,” Ossë shrugged. He swallowed another bite. “You can make this for me anytime. Have you ever tried putting a bit of salmon in with the mushrooms?”

“I'm sure that'd be good.” Círdan had moved closer, and Ossë looked up at him with a grin.

“That's not the only thing you think would be good.”

“No.” Their kiss was hot and wet and tasted of the sea.

*

As Círdan pulled up his nets, his boat began to heave and roll. Narrowing his eyes, he swept an oar down the side of the boat and pushed when he met resistance. Ossë came up cackling. “That's no way to treat a friend!”

“And what kind of friend tries to swamp my boat, hmm?”

“I was granting you a favor! I’d be no friend at all if I didn't help you test out your new design. Which I like, by the way.” He drew webbed fingers admiringly along the curved planks, and Círdan shivered at the memories of what those fingers could do.

“She’s a good little workhorse. Can haul a lot.”

“You must be putting her to solid use. I stopped by the village first, before I found you. Looked like a lot of stuff being hauled. You're not leaving it behind? Has it been compromised somehow?”

“It's been quiet, actually. You were right about the running water; nothing of Melkor's is eager to cross it. The thing is, we’re outgrowing it. And I'm ready to build bigger ships than anything I can moor here. We're moving out to the coast proper, building havens. Eglarest, we've named it. Near the river mouth; we’ll still have its protection from Angband.”

Ossë looked across the water, to where tall reeds hid the cluster of houses raised on stilts in the midst of the salt-marsh. “I'll miss this place. It's been good to you.”

Círdan laughed. “You'll miss swimming under people’s homes and terrifying them while they sleep, you mean.”

“Someone has to keep you on your toes.” He put his shoulder to the boat, rocking it again half-heartedly. It was admirably stable. “I guess you don't really need me anymore. What with building a city and all.” 

“As a teacher? Not so often now. As a friend? As my lover? Always.”

Ossë smiled at that. “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

“Let me drop off these fish, and I'll be yours.” 

He rowed through the reeds, quiet enough not to startle the heron he passed. Several women sat on the dock in front of the meeting-hall, mending nets and talking, and they helped him haul up his catch. “To share around with everyone,” he told them. “If you don't mind taking charge of them.”

“It's fine. I think I'll drag Hyalmo and Maewen over to help fry them up. They were talking about broaching a cask of their new mead. We all deserve a little celebration after all the work we've done.”

“You do, that's for sure.” 

Eäloth studied him curiously. “You aren't staying around to eat?”

"I might be back in time. Give everyone my best wishes if I'm not.”

Her eyes flicked to where Ossë lazed alongside the boat, and she smiled. “Mm. Enjoy yourself.”

Ossë led him out into the bay, and he raised his boat's little sail, watching it fill with wind and speed him along. Near a sheltered beach, Ossë called to him. “We'll go ashore here. Step carefully on the sand and stay close.”

Círdan guided his craft as close in as he dared and turned into the wind so that the sail slackened and the boat drifted still in the water. Dropping anchor, he swam and splashed through the shallows. Ossë had shifted from his long tail to two legs, and Círdan hurried forward to offer his arm to the unsteady Maia. “Why's everything got to feel so _heavy?”_ Ossë grumbled. “I should just take a seal form; why do I fool with legs?” Círdan didn't bother reminding him how much he enjoyed Elven anatomy when he didn't have to use it to walk. He leaned on Círdan and pointed out where they were headed. “Watch where you go now…ahh. We're in good time.”

They settled on the sand, Ossë stoutly refusing to explain further. Círdan leaned back against his chest and listened to him chatter about everything he'd seen in the ocean with a fond smile. When the sand before them started to shift and churn, he was first to notice. Tiny grey heads and eagerly waving flippers pushed their way up, and a baby turtle spilled out, parting from the mass of its brothers and sisters, followed by another and another, slipping and scrabbling and forcing themselves forward again. Círdan reached out to help one that had toppled back, but Ossë caught his arm. “They have to do it themselves,” he whispered. “We’ll chase off the gulls if they come, but that's all.”

Círdan nodded and watched in quiet awe, thinking of the huge shadowed shapes he’d seen a few times, skimming beneath the water’s surface, their shells as long as his boat.

“They haven't nested in these waters in a very long time,” Ossë told him. “Not since Melkor's labors in Utumno reached their height.”

“But now life returns.”

“Life returns.” Círdan glanced behind him and saw that Ossë was openly weeping. Starlight reflected in the tear-tracks on his cheeks. He wiped his eyes and gave Círdan a watery smile. “I've worked so hard for this.”

Círdan kissed him gently. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

They watched together until the last turtle had reached the waves. Back on his boat, Círdan lay with a bundled cloak under his head for a pillow and reached over the side. Ossë took his hand, and they fell asleep, floating like two otters, hand in hand, rocked in the cradle of the ocean while the stars shone overhead.

*

Círdan had sailed farther out the bay than he usually attempted alone. The waves were choppy and a strange tension crackled in the air, though he did not think it the first signs of storm. Schools of fish clustered in confusion, agitating the water. He felt Ossë’s approach like a lodestone’s pull.

Ossë breached the surface on the port side of the boat and pulled himself up to rest on the gunwale. At the sight of him, Círdan caught his breath. He’d never imagined Ossë looking so lost. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

With eyes full of pain Ossë met his gaze. “Would you kiss me?”

Círdan leaned down, putting an arm behind him to hold him close. There was no fight or playfulness in Ossë as he kissed him back. His lips were soft and yielding. When he straightened, Círdan wondered if the water drops on Ossë’s cheeks were tears.

“Melkor’s coming,” he whispered. “The light of Aman is no more. He’s destroyed it and fled, and we think he’s coming here, to take back his old fortress, and you’re all in grave danger.” There was no doubt he was crying now, and he put his head down, shaking with sobs. Círdan took his hand and squeezed it, not knowing what else to do.

“We’ll be prepared, thanks to you. Eglarest and Brithombar both have walls, fortifications. My people are armed. We can survive.”

Ossë’s laugh was chilling. “You have no idea what it’s like to face Melkor’s full might. Your little tussles with foraging orc-bands are nothing. You’ll all be slaves in the pits of Angband before the children in your walls are grown. His fiery little lieutenant hasn’t seen fit to waste the effort on reaching you here, but his master will have no such qualms.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll help us, won’t you? We can train; we can encourage everyone to move into the cities where they’ll be sheltered. We have a little time, surely.”

“Maybe.”

“Is there…aught you know of him? They say…some say you served him for a time.”

“You look scared.”

“Not of you.”

“It’s true. If you’d seen him in those early times…I don’t know. Perhaps you’d understand. He was wild and untamable, powerful and glorious beyond belief. So I thought. Picture what you feel watching the thunderstorm beat around you, and imagine it can turn and smile and hold out its hand for you to take. I followed him. I was intoxicated with him. But then…Uinen came to me and asked to show me something. She led me to where a river poured into the sea. A river that flowed from Utumno. Only it wasn’t water anymore, just sludge, choked with coal ash and slag from his forges. Dead fish floated in the water, and birds with their feathers coated in poison lay gasping on the beach. I saw then what he really was. That he cared for no one but himself, that he’d poison the world without a thought if it brought him his pleasure. I left then and never looked back but to grieve for my ignorance. So. That’s what I know of Melkor. I’m afraid, and you should be too.”

Círdan hung his head, struggling to take it all in. “Well. I didn't expect him to have a conscience, after some of the things I've heard out of Angband. Maybe we can’t win. I don't know. But I'm not just handing over this world. We have to hope, and we have to fight.”

“I'll be with you. Whatever happens. Whatever I can do is yours. I just…I wish you didn't have to face this.”

“You shouldn't have to face it either.” Círdan's mind was working through all the tasks ahead, but that was yet to come. Ossë's fear and pain were now. 

Ossë shook his head. “I gave him my loyalty. My service. Even if it wasn't for long. I'm complicit in what he’s done. If anyone has an obligation to fight him, it’s me.”

“I'll be with you.” Círdan took his hands. “You aren't alone.”

Ossë's eyes widened, and disbelief and gratefulness warred on his face. He pressed his forehead to Círdan’s, and they held each other. “Show me,” he whispered at last. “Please? There may be no comfort tomorrow. Let me have one more good moment to cling to.”

Círdan shrugged off his clothes and slipped into the water. His arms circled Ossë, and the Maia rested against him. He rubbed Ossë's back gently, careful of the sharp spines he'd chosen to wear. He had a feeling they might sting if he touched them wrong. For a moment, Círdan thought that was all Ossë had meant, but then he began pressing fierce, desperate kisses to his throat and his collarbone, and Círdan realized that he'd shifted, Ossë's legs tangling with his in the water. A larger wave caught him by surprise and washed over his face, and he spluttered until Ossë lifted him up, laughing despite himself.

“Worth it to see you smile,” he gasped as he clutched Ossë's shoulders. Claiming Ossë's lips in a deep kiss, he delighted in the taste of salt, letting his hands wander down his body and cup his ass. Ossë moaned into his mouth, and his hardening erection slid against Círdan's. They rocked against each other with the movement of the sea. Círdan closed his eyes in bliss and tried to shut out the fear that this could be the last time. Ossë had always come and gone, and there had never been guarantees, but now it seemed his world might crumble, and all he could hold was right now. He pulled Ossë closer and sighed as Ossë nipped at his sensitive ear.

“Would you have me?” he murmured, grabbing the side of the boat to hold himself steady. Ossë's kisses were feather-light on his neck. He never wanted it to end.

Ossë hummed a few quick notes, summoning to his fingers a slick, viscous substance that Círdan had never felt like inquiring further about. But instead of easing a finger into him, he reached around and smoothed it over Círdan’s cock. He caught his breath at the unexpected pleasure, thrusting into Ossë's fist. “I thought perhaps we’d do it the other way this time. I want you to fill me. Make me feel only you.”

Círdan groaned at that. Pulling Ossë's legs up around his hips, he sank into him slowly, savouring the heat enclosing him. Ossë was moaning little curses into his ear interspersed with pleas for more. “Look at me,” he commanded as he settled fully inside the Maia. Ossë's gaze was open and dark with desire, and Círdan thought he could lose himself in its stormy depths. “I've got you, love.”

Ossë nodded, and as Círdan let go of the boat and began to move in him, he drew them down. Círdan took a deep breath as the water closed over their heads, and they were weightless, dancing in another world where none could intrude, immersed in each other and the rhythm of their bodies while what starlight pierced the shadowy depths painted them in its rippling glow. Time stood still, and there was only hands clutching, skin against skin, Círdan thrusting as Ossë pushed back against him, heat and aching pleasure building. Círdan slipped a hand between them, and with a few strokes, Ossë shuddered through his release, and his clenching drew Círdan after as everything went soft around the edges and bliss spilled over them both. 

At the surface, Círdan heaved in lungfuls of air while Ossë supported him, not even trying to look sorry for holding him under so long. They floated beside the boat, neither willing to let go. Círdan laced his fingers with Ossë’s webbed ones.

"Ai, don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?" Círdan smiled.

"With all that fire in your eyes, like you're ready to go racing back and throw yourself into work. And probably drag me with you. Can't we have just a little longer?"

"Just a little, then." Círdan laid his head on Ossë's shoulder, bobbing gently in the waves, and they held fast to each other between the sea and the stars.


End file.
